


Deceit's Job

by 50Lizardsinatrenchcoat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, But not exactly? Deceit is just an unreliable narrator and hates him, Deceit | Janus Sanders is Bad at Feelings, Deceit | Janus Sanders is Named Deceit, Dialogue Light, Ducking Out, During Canon, Gen, Growing Up, Heavy Angst, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Hurt Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Hurt Deceit | Janus Sanders, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inner Dialogue, Internal Monologue, Internalized Homophobia, Introspection, Less of a metaphor and more of a euphanism, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Origin Story, Patton accidentally causes a lot of problems, Political Alliances, Pre-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, Self-Hatred, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), Unreliable Narrator, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, ask to tag, ducking out as a metaphor for suicide, fighting for leadership, is this darkfic?, last work for this fandom, power struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50Lizardsinatrenchcoat/pseuds/50Lizardsinatrenchcoat
Summary: It's Deceit's job as self-preservation to keep the mind in balance. What constitutes "balance" has shifted many times before. This is the story of the side's struggle for power and how individuals got caught in the crossfire.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, roceit if you squint
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	Deceit's Job

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before the redux came out. I haven't seen it, nor do I plan to. I've moved on from the fandom. That being said, I'm at least a little proud of this semi-pretentious origin story and I want to share it. It's 6k words of growing up as a side from Deceit's perspective, except now with power struggles and factions. Fun, huh?

In the beginning, everything was simple yet chaotic. Sides scampered about the mind as they pleased, with no regard to structure. Alliances had yet to be formed but it was easy to see the foundations in hindsight. Conflict hovered over the horizon, but no one could see it yet.

Of all the sides, Ideas was the de facto leader. With his superior charisma and penchant for bossiness, his rule went unchallenged and peaceful.

Curiosity was his right hand for misadventure in the foolhardy name of glory. (It, unfortunate as it may be, is likely a net positive they don't get along as well as they used to.) Wherever that duo went, trouble followed.

Young and underdeveloped, Empathy held the most compassion for the world and his fellow sides. Everyone treated him like a kid brother who needed protection.

Fear and Opportunity were never seen apart, but not because they were fond of each other. (Not to imply they detested the other; their relationship was more complex than that.) The two of them stood apart from the other sides, so they stood together. They saw the world for what it was behind the curtain. It wouldn't give weak sides like all of them a second to beg for mercy. 

The other sides didn’t shun them per se, but they never welcomed them to the inner circle. Opportunity almost understood his ostracism. The scales marring his face unsettled the others on a visceral level. But Fear? He meant no harm. He just wanted to keep everyone safe. The other sides respected that, even if they didn't quite understand. Tension brewed, but things remained stable until the situation changed. Thomas grew older.

So came the first upheaval in the mind, leaving Opportunity scrambling for a sense of order. (He recalled an expression. Something about gold, roughly meaning good things don’t last forever. He thought it applied to the situation.)

It was all on Empathy. The naive, soft-hearted Empathy. The Empathy who wanted everyone to be friends. The same Empathy who ripped Ideas in half.

The flash faded, as did the piercing ring from a side’s worth of energy being released. The silence choked out any words. Curiosity, Empathy, Fear, and Opportunity stared at the sight before them. Ideas, the boisterous knight in silver armor, was no more. In his place laid two unconscious children clinging to each other, not much younger than the onlookers. One in white, one in black.

In less than ten seconds, the sides aged years. The impossible clawed out of the void and destroyed itself. Sides could die. New sides could be born.

The boy in white stirred with a tired groan.

Empathy broke out of his trance and rushed forward to assist the boy, with Curiosity right behind him.

They called out for Ideas, but the boy in white pulled a face. He claimed it wasn't his name. After a thoughtful pause, he christened himself as Creativity. Although hesitant, Empathy and Curiosity took to Creativity almost instantly.

Opportunity could do nothing but look on in horror at the recent development. He pressed up against Fear, his legs weak in the knees. Was no one besides them troubled by Ideas' death?

This couldn't be happening. It shouldn't be happening. Despite Opportunity's wishes to the contrary, it continued to happen.

The boy in black began to stir. The nearby three turned their attention to him. Curiosity asked the boy his name.

The boy in black thought for a moment. He didn't answer properly. He blurted out that people are seven times more likely to kill themselves than be murdered.

The three recoiled as if struck. Opportunity found himself confused, yet intrigued. Just who was this strange side?

He got his answer. Ideas split down the center into yin and yang. Light and dark. Brothers.

The mind adjusted, as did Opportunity. Neither would be the same, though.

Opportunity took on a new mantel. One day, he was the personification of climbing the social ladder and knowing when to make a move. The next, he championed the protection of oneself and desirable opportunities. He evolved. He became Preservation.

It wasn't an unexpected change. The others were going through discoveries of their own.

Empathy _finally_ started to think about the second and third-order effects of his and Thomas's actions. What seemed right in the moment could poison the future. He couldn't let that happen, not on his call. Empathy became more nuanced and passed the torch to Morality.

Curiosity, although fascinated by the new sides, found himself irrevocably envious of their relationship. He and Ideas had been best friends, but he found himself cast aside since the division. Embittered by the cold, Curiosity died that day and Logic rose from the ashes.

Fear felt powerless, and Preservation could hardly blame him. The mind and Thomas's world were changing at breakneck speed and Preservation couldn't always be by his side any longer. Tossed into the deep end, Fear changed for survival. He grew beyond fleeing from a scary situation or burying your face in a blanket during a movie. He embodied the racing pulse, the jagged thoughts, the dizzying sense of peril from the unknown. Anxiety weathered the depths and grew to be like them. 

That left the creativities.

Having two creativities running amok made things… interesting, to say the least. Neither evolved to possess a new trait. They both continued to rule over the same element. Despite having identical powers, their personalities couldn't be more opposite if they tried.

Princey, what the boy in white took to calling himself, made a point of being regal and extravagant at all times. His head swam with a million storybook happy endings, laced with dragons, knights in shining armor, and true love. He inherited Ideas' zest for life and excitability. Such fancy would normally make Preservation roll his eyes, but he thought him amusing at the very least.

Duke, on the other hand, took his brother's fairy tales and twisted them beyond recognition, even farther than the brothers Grimm. Legends of incomprehensible beasts, of senseless tragedies, and the villain's conquest filled the cracks in his brain. (Preservation frequently let him ramble on because no one else could stand his flavor of stories. He set aside his discomfort for the sake of the child.)

The brothers were a polarizing topic. Princey’s tales enchanted Morality, but Logan thought him a nuisance. Both brothers made Anxiety uncomfortable for one reason or another.

Preservation was fascinated.

The two sides couldn't be more different if they _tried_ (and they tried once, as an experiment.) Duke was easily his favorite. Princey didn't notice that only half of his fellow sides held him in a positive light, but the Duke was pointedly aware only Princey and Preservation could stand his company.

Duke possessed fewer delusions about how the world worked, and Preservation appreciated that. That doesn't mean he hated Princey, not by any stretch. He was an interesting case study and he meant well, but Preservation already had to put up with Morality. _One_ overly-exuberant blind optimist was enough.

Despite their differences, Princey and Duke were partners in chaos. They brought their brand of magic from the imagination to the forefront of Thomas's mind. Despite how much things changed, Preservation closed his eyes and pretended Ideas was in the room over, having a friendly debate with Curiosity over the next grand adventure. (It was just Princey and Logic arguing. The past remained elusive. ) The Duke shouted something to his brother and the illusion shattered.

Preservation sighed as time marched onwards.

On the surface, everything ran like clockwork. A clock covered in glitter and half-baked concepts scrawled in iridescent pen, yes, but clockwork nonetheless. With a closer look, a faction formed like an unspoken line etched the sand. Distrust for all outside the inner circle grew.

Once again, everything was Morality's fault.

The insufferable, self-righteous, thought-he-knew-better-than-everyone, _Morality_. No longer the child of the group, Morality held the most sway over Thomas.

Preservation couldn't forget the cursed day if he tried (and he _tried_ to scour the event from his memory). The details remained burned into his mind.

Saturday afternoon. Logic and Princey were watching an edutainment cartoon together (one of the only things they agreed on), Anxiety was… wherever the loner usually hung out when not called upon. That left Morality, Preservation, and the Duke in the main part of the mindscape. Preservation read a novel instead of paying attention to the other two. (God, he wished he looked up a mere ten seconds sooner).

Morality was baking cookies, walking around the kitchen with the bowl in his arms to avoid Duke. "Get that away from my batter! Ew, what is that?"

Duke cackled. "Fake grasshoppers! You should try one!"

"Ugh, why are you like this? Why can't you act more like-" Morality cut himself off, but the damage was done.

Preservation twisted out of his seat to run over and end the conversation, ten seconds too late.

Duke stood as tall as his height would let him and glared up at Morality. "Like who? My dear brother, is that who you mean? I was only joking. And yet you-" He balled his hands into fists and gathered his resolve. "You treat me like a plague! Why do you hate me? Huh?"

Morality sputtered in indignation. "I-It's not like that! I just..."

Preservation couldn't let this go on. (Princey wasn't here. Logic wasn't here. Anxiety wasn't here. Anyone who could deescalate the situation was absent.)

"You're afraid of him, just like you're afraid of me." It wasn't a question. Morality whipped around to face him, eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. Preservation crossed his arms. "You don't see his purpose, so you're _afraid_ of what he might do."

Morality scowled and averted his gaze, his grip on the bowl tightening. "Of course, you don't understand."

Preservation scoffed. "Enlighten me, then. Explain how Duke is so dangerous."

"I…" Morality turned around and focused on his cookies. "Please just let me bake in peace."

Preservation faltered. "Morality?"

"Just... Go. _Please_."

Something changed in that split second. The air, the same temperature as always, turned frigid and hostile.

Preservation rested a hand on the Duke's shoulder. "Come along." He side-eyed the guilty party. "We _clearly_ aren't welcomed here."

There was no explosion. No blinding flash. No death. Just silent, resolute, rejection.

Preservation led Duke away from the light. The longer they walked, the deeper the shadows grew. The floor creaked with each misstep. The ice from before held no candle to the deep freeze of this corner of the mind, but Preservation and Duke didn't feel it. The air offered them protection because they were on their own territory.

The arrived at a mirror image of the other side of the mindscape, save for a few key idiosyncrasies. Dust and cobwebs decorated every surface like a blanket made of lonely years. Wallpaper peeled away from the walls, exposing secrets built into the foundation. Preservation felt like he walked into a hallowed space he shouldn’t know about.

A figure sat near the corner of the room, painting on an easel. The man didn’t outwardly acknowledge their arrival. "I was right," he said, a dark edge creeping into his voice. Preservation recognized that tempest tongue anywhere. "They're backstabbers. They turned on all of us."

Anxiety stood up and locked eyes with Preservation. He welcomed his fellow exiles to his part of the mind with a pained grimace and a limp gesture around the room.

From that day on, the sides remained divided into those Thomas welcomed, and those he hated about himself. The Light Side Alliance, and the fringe Others who barely tolerated each other.

Thomas tried to erase the Other’s existence. (Unconsciously, of course. Thomas isn't that cruel.) His efforts met mixed results. Preservation slipped into the shadows as instructed. It made it easier to fulfill his duties with no resistance.

It almost destroyed Duke, leaving nothing to take his place. Preservation did all he could to keep him stable, but it was up to Duke to pull through.

He survived, but only just.

Imagination was still a part of his domain, but the banishment broke something fundamental inside of him. The Duke’s fascination with the macabre became corrupt, letting Intrusive Thoughts rise. (Preservation still called him the Duke. He was still the same side. No, Preservation wasn't in denial.)

And Anxiety? Well...

With one of the Creativities exiled to the dark, a huge power vacuum developed. Princey tried to rule solo, but he lacked depth without his other half. Logic didn’t manage Thomas’s emotions, leaving him vulnerable. Something had to give.

Morality was going to try leading next, but he never got his chance to try.

It was the first week of Thomas's freshman year of high school. With no side at the helm, all opinions held equal weight despite the obvious conflicts that developed. Thomas was unsure of what to do or whom to trust.

Once again, no explosion heralded the change, just a foreboding numbness that wrapped around everything until the entire mindscape was draped in a choking fog.

Preservation sensed the shift before he was cognitively aware of it.

It clicked. Anxiety seized the bridle when no one would.

Anxiety’s reign lasted for years. Preservation preferred not to think about the beginning ("I did what I had to!" and "I'm sick of letting them drive Thomas to the ground!" He remembered those more clearly than he'd like).

He loathed thinking about the middle, but everything that changed made it harder to ignore.

Anxiety and Preservation's relationship grew strained over the years, but nothing could compare to Anxiety stealing his element.

Preservation realized that he usurped the position after months of receiving fewer and fewer assignments. Anxiety came to mean more than fear. He represented protection from a world out for blood, the spiky shell guarding a scared core. The change made sense, but Preservation still felt dejected and bitter at his irrelevancy.

Yet he wasn’t obsolete. Something stirred in his core. Something powerful. He only had to accept the truth.

Deceit wore his new mantel like a badge of honor. Finally, he felt whole.

Mixed reactions abound, as not all sides took the change well.

The only complete positive response came from the Duke, who thought that Deceit became “More awesome than stabbing an eyeball with 1000 toothpicks covered in lemon juice”! (Deceit appreciated the sentiment, if not the wording.)

Logic scarcely acknowledged the change. Deceit didn’t expect much more. The two of them barely talked to each other, and as long as Deceit fulfilled his duties, Logic had nothing to nitpick. 

Roman acted like he had a new Disney villain to vanquish. Although expected, Deceit was a touch disappointed in the lack of maturity from someone who used to lead the sides. No wonder he lost the crown.

Patton acted as if Deceit personally offended him for existing. (“At least you helped before, but now you just want to make Thomas a liar!” Lying isn’t always wrong, you uptight, closed-minded _sheep_.)

Anxiety apologized, but it felt hollow. He and Deceit made a silent agreement to never talk about it again.

After all, they had work to do.

Thomas was constantly distracted during history, and not (just) because it was a dull class. One seat forward and slightly to the right sat an angel on Earth. Unless you asked Thomas, that is. He described the dewy-eyed vixen like this: "Despite doing nothing, he's impossibly distracting. He keeps glancing over at me and _smirking_. Ugh, I want to slap that smug look off his face!"

All the sides had different things to say about him. Logic disliked him for interrupting Thomas's lessons with no effort. Morality insisted something was deeply wrong with the boy. Anxiety said he made Thomas's anxiety ratchet up and was probably against him.

Despite this ironclad testimony, Deceit thought Princey said it the best:

"I want him to be the knight in shining armor that rescues us from the tower!"

From his vantage point in the shadows around the Light Side's common room, Deceit grinned as the true meaning of those words dawned on Logic and Morality.

The two of them stumbled over different reasons that could never happen, _should_ never happen.

Only one person could stop it from happening.

Deceit scowled and took his orders without complaint. Someone had to deal with everything Thomas didn't want to.

All thoughts of the ethereally beautiful boy were crushed. In time, Thomas stopped glancing in his direction during class and nothing came of their interactions.

Anxiety took note of Deceit's new role and asked to make their alliance more than one of convenience.

Deceit finally made himself useful. People only cared about him when his abilities furthered their own agenda.

He declined the offer.

Rather angrily.

Shouting may have occurred.

No one else will know either way, as neither party is willing to speak about it.

Deceit remained firmly neutral in the faction war that happened in the mindscape, despite what Morality (and Anxiety) thought of him.

He was only following orders, after all.

With no supporters and fractured parties, Anxiety's power began to slip despite his frantic efforts. High School stabilized during senior year. Maybe it was time to stop being angry at the world. 

This left one question: who could take charge next, after everything?

Based on all the thinking Thomas did, Deceit banked on Logic (but he can't be there for Thomas emotionally, so who could it be?)

No points for guessing.

_ Morality. Of course. _

First, he pushed Thomas to talk to someone about his feelings, weakening Anxiety's grip on the mindscape further.

Next, he threw Thomas into his creative endeavors, not just the ones that existed to cope with how stressed he was. Morality had Princey's support from the beginning, but that cemented it.

He managed not to alienate Logic, which was the real miracle. He placed him in charge of fact-checking Princey and designing Thomas's to-do list and schedule.

Morality himself handled most interactions, but everyone had a say when it came to decision making. He set up a democracy of sorts from their perspective.

In practice, it was more of an oligarchy.

Deceit was not mad about his exclusion from the table. They believed he fraternized with Anxiety, whom they viewed as a dictator. (They hadn't been friends since they were children. However, the ruling stood.) His other ally was the Duke, who made all of them uncomfortable. It was only expected that Deceit would have the same reputation as his company. Never mind that Anxiety took control when no one else would or could, or that Morality turned the Duke into what he was. Not a detail of that mattered. (To be fair, Morality hadn't tried to lead yet and no one could've foreseen what the Duke would become).

The sides received names. No one chose a moniker, but they felt undeniably right. They came as epiphanies during otherwise rote work.

Logan told his name to Morality and Princey during a quiet moment. The exiled only learn when the shadows whispered secrets to Deceit and he relayed the information.

Patton's mirrored Logan's. The shadows have loose lips.

Roman was different. The second he learned his name, he shouted it to anyone who would listen. As if he forgot the years of vitriol between the two of them, he ran to the Other Side to tell the Duke. There may have been yelling. Maybe then some angry tears no one wanted to spill. (Deceit swore not to tell anyone. He kept his word.)

Remus. The irony of the name was lost on no one.

Virgil whispered his name in secret to Deceit one sleepless night. He had nothing left except his identity. The Light Sides couldn't have it. (Deceit kept his word.)

Deceit doesn't have a name, at least not one he’s willing to acknowledge.

He realized his name during a lazy afternoon. He sprang from the lone armchair in the Other Side's common room and sprinted to write the name down.

Neatly written script looped on a plain piece of notebook paper. Deceit sighed and shoved the paper between his writing desk and the wall before forcing himself to forget.

He didn't want or need a name. If he ever changed his mind, he could always fish the paper out to read it.

Life went on.

Thomas started talking to his sides.

Unfortunately for them, Virgil was still salty about being ousted. He popped in when unwanted and trolled the Light Sides. Thomas didn't like him very much, but Virgil insisted it didn't affect him while he regaled Deceit and Remus with tales of messing with the main sides. (No one can lie to Deceit. He didn't call Virgil out.)

It became the new normal for the Other Sides. Virgil hung out with the Light and made himself a nuisance when not working in the dark, Remus ran about the imagination, and Deceit kept an eye on him while pulling strings from the shadows.

Slow changes. Slow changes are always for the worst.

Virgil's mood got lower and lower as time went by, but Deceit was too busy to notice anything was wrong.

When he did, he assumed it was just a passing mood, like the times before.

No.

Deceit should have checked in, prevented Virgil from ducking out-

He needed to get to Virgil's room. _Now._

Deceit tried to appear in his room. Keyword: tried.

Virgil shut down his corner of the mindscape.

_ Virgil shut down his corner of the mindscape. _

Only sides traveling with Thomas could reach him. Oh God. Virgil was _actually_ trying to disappear.

Deceit could only wait, powerless, to see if the Light Sides pulled through.

He paced about the mind, horrible images of a gruesome fate plaguing his thoughts. Elsewhere, Remus screamed for the Other Side’s champion. Neither approached the other as Virgil's fate hung in limbo.

Sand trickled through the hourglass. The clock ticked. Dust settled.

Virgil stumbled out the other end of the battlefield, still clinging to the Light Sides.

Hours passed with no word from Virgil, just confirmation from the shadows he survived. Deceit waited for him, sleepless and stressed. In the late hours of the night, Virgil tiptoed back to the Other Side with a caution to his steps. Almost like he was wandering through enemy territory.

Deceit jerked out of his spiraling reverie as Virgil crept in. For just a moment, the two of them needed no words. They locked eyes and immeasurable sorrow passed between them. Deceit would never forget their next conversation.

Virgil spoke first. "I tried to duck out."

"I know."

"I told them my name." 'Them' did not need to be specified.

"I know." The shadows tell him everything. This did not need to be specified.

Deceit spoke again. "You've joined them." There was no inflection in his voice.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. "You're… taking this remarkably well."

"You lived." (I’m sorry.)

Virgil scowled and walked to his room to gather his things.

Deceit didn't talk to him directly again for several months.

It meant nothing to him. They hadn't been allies since they were children. (Liar. Hypocrite.)

Remus pretended Virgil’s brush with oblivion meant nothing to him, but he tore up his room and screamed into the subconscious when he believed Deceit couldn’t hear him. (Deceit didn’t call him out. There were worse coping mechanisms.)

Normal reestablished itself and time went on. Deceit let the Light Sides run around as they please until they almost screwed up something major.

Deceit felt a slight cold tug in his chest. An unconscious summoning. He’d never felt one before, but Virgil described the sensation to him before their falling out.

But he couldn’t show up as himself. Thomas didn’t know Deceit personally and would immediately distrust him from the stories Virgil no doubt told his new allies.

He needed a strategy. Luckily, he was good at thinking on his feet.

His Morality mask likely needed work due to his personal bias against him, but Deceit prayed it would be enough to smooth out Thomas’s fumble before it became a crash and ruined his friendship with Joan.

Deceit immediately realized how much the Light Sides changed during his absence from their domain. Virgil fit in like a puzzle piece. Deceit felt like he tarnished something sacred by masquerading as their leader.

When Virgil asked ‘Patton’ about his feelings on the matter, Deceit tried to argue his point with feelings disguised as facts (philosophy, sorry). Roman latched onto his explanation and Logan considered his case, but Virgil narrowed his eyes. Deceit cursed himself. Of course, Patton’s closest friends would notice if he acted strangely. He should have arrived as himself and dealt with the consequences like an adult. It was too late to back out. He could only continue.

He planted the seed of an idea: taking lying practice to the stage; Roman acts as predicted and they’re off.

Raise the curtains, and-

Oh.

_ Wow. _

He can’t take any of this seriously. (Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh-)

The scene ended and Logan explained what just happened. Rinse and repeat two more times, and deceit ushered them into the fourth act.

Everything started to fall apart. Roman got cold feet, Thomas was no more sold with lying to Joan than before, and Virgil ended everything at the first chance he got.

Disguising himself as Patton was a bad idea, but by the time he realized nothing was working, it was too late to back out. (It was too late to back out the second he rose up.)

He attempted one last appeal to emotions, but it only served to drive Thomas away, Roman following.

He went to sway Virgil, but Virgil gritted out a response, glaring with enough iced fury to melt lead. Of course, his ex-ally never bought the act.

Thomas shut him down. Deceit lost and gave up trying to stay in character.

“Wow, Thomas, you’re so _mature_.” Beginning of the end, and all his plans were going to hell in a handbasket. There was no saving any of it. 

"Do you want to learn something new about yourself?" 

Deceit’s chances of entering the picture in Thomas’s good graces rapidly approached zero. He might as well have some fun with that.

"Oooh, I don't know either, Thomas! you might not like what you find." Deceit dug his own grave, and now he had to lie in it.

" _DECEIT!_ "

Deceit performed with a mask as he always did in front of people. New mask, same principle.

Butter up Roman, dig into Virgil, it all meant nothing. On the other hand, watching Thomas jump back in shock was quite a thrill; Deceit almost understood why Remus liked sowing chaos so much.

Logan stripped away the web of secrecy and explained most of his methods. Deceit glared at him and filed away Logan’s perceived skillset. He couldn’t afford to underestimate him again.

“Where’s Patton!?” Good question. In a split second, Deceit decided to get as much fun out of this dumpster fire of an interaction as possible.

“I am, and always have been, Patton.” None of the sides even entertained the concept for obvious reasons, but watching Thomas flail was inexplicably hilarious. 

Patton, summoned by his name, tried to rise up right under Deceit’s feet. He came up smiling but it strained when he saw the source of his block.

The horrendously stupid villain, exit stage down.

As soon as he was alone, the high of being terrifying drained away, leaving him feeling empty. What a _smart_ move Deceit, confirming what the Light Sides thought of you and burning the last shredded piece of your relationship with Virgil, just for a momentary thrill. No way that could come back to bite you in _any_ way.

He trudged into the common room and slumped in the armchair. With a long-suffering sigh, he massaged his temples and tried to think of literally anything else. Nothing went right these days.

Remus chose that moment to wander into the room.

He flopped over against Deceit's side and asked him what's gotten his dick in a twist.

Ah. Remus. How helpful.

Admittedly, he was very good at being distracting. Just for old time’s sake, Deceit asked Remus to tell him about any new stories he thought of. (It’s nothing like before. Dark concept exploration traded itself out for gruesome suffering for its own sake.)

Not even an hour later, the shadows whispered to him.

A misunderstanding. 

Joan wasn’t mad. Nothing Deceit did mattered. He could have stayed in the shadows with no consequences.

Not for the first time, Deceit hated every ounce of his being on a visceral level. If he didn’t have such a _knee jerk reaction_ -

Deceit tried not to think about that.

Aside from the one time he popped in as a joke, Deceit kept quiet from the Light Sides. He bided his time until an opportunity arose. Patience is a virtue, as they say.

The call back presented itself on a silver platter. It was too easy.

Literally. His Plan A failed in mere moments.

Logan’s mask was harder to wear than Patton’s, especially with the others on a higher alert than normal since his reveal.

Virgil didn’t take kindly to him encroaching on his new territory, immediately lashing out in his direction.

Deceit covered his hurt with a feigned over-dramatic rendition no one took seriously. As expected, no one trusted a word from his mouth. What was less expected was them trying to parse out if he could even tell the truth at all, like none of the sides remembered he used to be Opportunity and Preservation. Did he adopt this new persona too well? Granted, Thomas was the one who came up with the question, but Deceit expected Virgil to spill everything he knew about Deceit to his allies, including weaknesses, like the fact _Deceit is colorblind_. That meant Virgil was a lot less forthcoming with information than expected.

Oh well, time to play the game where the winner influences Thomas.

Despite Virgil’s best efforts, Deceit won just enough of Thomas’s support to be heard out. However, and much to his annoyance, Patton cut in and whined that lying was wrong. Wrong, a highly subjective modifier. Of course, he argues with formless ideas. That hasn’t changed a bit.

On the other hand, Roman diverged a noticeable amount from what Deceit remembered about their interactions as children.

“Are you seriously so close-minded to think that everything said by someone you don’t like is automatically untrue? This is a big deal for Thomas! Maybe Mary and Lee will understand.” Yes, Roman was his new favorite. Time to see if he could build on that. 

No. The answer was no. _Patton, once again_. He tried to pressure Thomas’s decision-making and accused Roman of being dishonorable. Deceit glowered at him. For someone who claimed to stand for what’s right, Patton sure liked to guilt people into doing his bidding.

Plan B it is.

Virgil, of course, tried to weasel his way out of Deceit’s scenario, but he was having none of it. Besides, Roman and even Patton looked intrigued. (He left out Logan. He was far under Patton’s thumb and a more skilled debater than Deceit.

It took a bit of herding, but the dial slowly shifted in favor of Deceit as the afternoon wore on. Logan, called as a witness, already believed the callback was a superior option due to potential benefits and Roman wanted the chance to be a movie by a legendary director more than he wanted to breathe, though a bit of well-timed flirting flattery didn’t hurt matters either. (No, he didn’t feel a fiery twinge in his chest when morality turned around and did the same thing. _Shut up_.)

And getting a chance to drag Patton’s blatant hypocrisy into the limelight? The stars had aligned for once in Deceit's miserable life.

It only kept going. He even got the chance to figure out what made Patton tick. Friendship. God, he sounded like a children’s cartoon. He wanted Thomas to throw away a shot at everything he’s ever dreamed of for an abstract concept that barely exists. People are inherently selfish; Only fools are blind to that.

And Thomas is no fool. He confessed to his desire for the callback and aversion for the wedding, just as planned. Deceit grins. For once, he made a tangible difference to help Thomas.

Virgil convicted him, and the opportunity of a lifetime fell into Roman’s lap. And at the crucial moment:

The stars crossed. He threw it away.

A swarm of Deceit’s emotions warred for dominance. Rage, confusion, dejection, all of it at once churned inside of him like a toxic cocktail.

Frustration won out, and Deceit cursed all higher powers listening and begged to know why all his fellow sides groveled at Patton’s feet even when their leader remained silent. Taking orders was one thing; acting like mindless sheep was a different matter entirely.

And for the cherry on top of life’s fuck-you sundae, they all _missed the point!_ It was like none of them bothered to check in with the actual scenario and relied instead on their preconceived notions of what Deceit meant.

Pinata analogy, go. For a brief moment, Deceit thought realization flickered in their eyes, but it didn’t stick. 

“I believe he’s suggesting that you beat someone up and rob their unconscious body, right?”

In that instant, Remus and Roman overlapped. The cocktail inside of him boiled. Deceit tried to course correct, but he couldn't hide how overwrought he was.

Logan chose that moment to show up and kick him out. Peachy.

The Light Sides don't value his input? Fine. Let’s see how they like it when he lets his crucial jobs fall by the wayside.

He rose up in the Other Side’s common room and slumped in front of the dying coals in the fireplace, letting his aloof mask drop. He glared into the pit as if trying to stoke the fire with nothing but rage.

“Oh, Remus?” He barely whispered the name, but the Duke appeared behind him with a cold hiss. Deceit didn’t bother to face him and continued.

“You know that idea you had that I put on the ‘never attempt’ shelf?” 

"Ooh, I like where this is going!" Remus said as he flopped over in the armchair.

“You wanted me to stop limiting your effects and Thomas’s denial of them?” Deceit toyed with the frayed edge of his cape as he spoke.

“Of course, that would be so much fun!” (It really _won’t_ be, but that’s the point.)

“Consider it _approved_.”

And just like that, Remus was gone. He sank out to his room, a harsh, crowing laughing trailing behind him.

Was letting Remus run loose a bad idea? Almost certainly. Deceit couldn't force himself to care. He’s never disobeyed direct orders, so it would at least be interesting to find out what happened.

Any time he would’ve normally stepped in to distract Remus, refocus his attention, or shut him down entirely, he just…

Didn’t.

He kept all his other tasks balanced; (ducking out? he’s never once considered it.) he couldn’t possibly leave Thomas floundering to that degree.

It’s his only concession. The Light Sides suffered under Remus’s anarchy and Deceit sat back to let the chaos unfold.

He didn’t even watch what happened to guarantee he wouldn't cut his example short. Aside from Remus teasing the Light sides with the idea of summoning him, Deceit went unmentioned and unneeded, as expected.

As he absently flicked through the pages of a novel he’d meant to read sooner, something in the air changed.

A surge of power crackled in his veins. Patton’s unconscious limiter on him slackened and his rightful abilities returned.

He held out his arm and a small, golden snake manifested, coiled around his sleeves. Deceit grinned despite himself. He hasn’t been able to summon minions in years. What a boon, he should’ve released Remus sooner-

The next second he’s doubled over on the floor. The crackle ignited and a fire burned at his psyche.

(He overextended his abilities, oh god, it _hurt_.)

Be it minutes or hours, Deceit came to and reassessed his health and connections in the mindscape.

A quick scan of his limbs and torso revealed no physical ailments or injuries. Turning his attention to the metaphysical, he gave a sharp tug on the chain morality had around his abilities. Sure enough, it was much looser than before.

Deceit scowled. If anything, that should be strengthening his powers, not leave him with a net change of zero. What was the missing variable?

A shadow danced around his ankles, eager to share a sensation tidbit of information from the Light Sides.

It whispered to him something that changed the game entirely. Virgil told Thomas he was once an Other Side.

One of the biggest secrets of the entire mindscape, spilled. All the cards rested on the table. That raised the question:

_ What came next? _


End file.
